Rescue Rangers: Redemption
by singhcr
Summary: The Rescue Rangers are on trial in Rescue Rangers: Redemption. The city is caught in a bitter snowstorm that has caused a famine in the animal population. The Rangers are asked to find some animals who have disappeared in the storm, but they find that not everything is as it seems. Can they clear their names, or will they be branded as criminals for the rest of their lives?
1. Chapter 1

Chip Maplewood's face tightened as he surveyed the scene in front of him. The grey walls of the alder tree were cold and uninviting; it felt like a morgue. The harsh lights above him made him lower his head, and a cold draft seeped from the solitary window in the room.

He instinctively reached to adjust the brim of his hat, but it wasn't there. He always did that when he was nervous, and he felt strange without it on. He wondered what went wrong in order to bring him to this place. Normally, he could see a twist coming a mile away, but not this one, not this time. The situation felt unreal, as if he was observing it happening to someone else from a great distance.

The others didn't look very comfortable either. Chip looked across the table at Dale, who was fidgeting in his seat one moment and scratching the dressing on his hand the next. Gadget was staring up at the ceiling with a pained expression on her face; he couldn't tell if she was trying to figure out how to escape from here or if she was thinking about another new invention of hers. Monty was squeezing his hands into fists as if he wanted to fight his way out, but he couldn't and he knew it.

How could this have happened? Chip couldn't concentrate on anything else. A loud bang came crashing down in front of him, snapping him back to reality and making him cognizant of the handcuffs around his wrists.

A cold, monotone voice spoke. "Court is now in session. The case of the state versus the organization known as the Rescue Rangers will begin…" As Chip drifted back toward his thoughts, he replayed the events of their last case again and again. It felt like it just happened yesterday…


	2. Chapter 2

The tree that served as Ranger headquarters swayed violently as it was caught up in a strong crosswind. Monterrey Jack used his sleeve to wipe off the condensation that had built up on the window. He squinted his eyes to look outside and was blinded by the near total whiteness. He shivered as he draped another blanket over himself. He began to pace around in circles, placing his hands on top of his head in frustration.

"I've been stuck in here for five days. I'm going crazy! I've got to do something!"

A hand came up on Monty's shoulder, causing him to turn around. It was Dale. He offered Monty a steaming thimble of liquid.

"Here, have some hot chocolate. I put in extra marshmallows, just the way you like it. Come on! The rest of us are watching TV." Dale gave Monty a big grin and dashed away to the living room.

Monty shook his head and smiled. In all of the years that he'd known Dale, he was always trying to keep everyone in good spirits and he tried to look on the bright side of things. Where Monty saw nothing but coldness and misery outside, Dale took it as an opportunity to serve cocoa to his friends and watch television together. Initially, the two had bonded over their shared sense of adventure and immaturity, but they had gradually formed a deeper friendship. Monty was inclined to agree with Chip's notion that Dale's carefree attitude got in the way of good detective work, but as he got older and the team pursued fewer cases each year he was better able to appreciate Dale's warm nature.

Monty peered into the living room. The others were wearing Christmas sweaters and were huddled together on the couch under thick blankets. There were more thimbles of cocoa and sugar cookies on a nearby table. Before the winter started, Gadget had installed a brick lined hearth in the room that now spit and crackled as it burned the young wood. The room was bathed in a warm, golden light. Gadget pulled back her blanket and patted the couch cushion, beckoning him to set down next to her. As he took his place on the couch and got under the covers, Zipper landed on his shoulder.

This was perfect, Monty thought to himself. While a part of him still yearned for adventure even this late into the winter, he didn't want to leave the couch tonight. He took a deep, contented sigh and drank his hot chocolate. As the Christmas special played late into the night, everyone soon fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

A blinking red light interrupted the darkness and woke the Rangers from their rest. Chip was the first to gather his senses and realize that someone was trying to reach them on the radio. He walked into the other room and sat next to the large metal console. He yawned as he placed the headphones over his head and picked up the microphone from its cradle.

A faint voice emanated from the speakers. "Hello? Is any-n-thr-" The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but it was hard to determine with all of the static.

Chip attempted to lock on to the transmission frequency. "Is anyone there?" he asked. He only heard a series of garbled words in reply. By this time, the others were awake and had made their way to the communications room.

"Gadget," he inquired, "can you do anything about this?"

"Sure thing, Chip," she said. "I just need to boost the gain of the antenna to cut through this interference." She threw a switch and the signal strength meter rose a few notches. She wiped the frost off of the meter's glass cover and tapped it with her knuckles to confirm that it was operational. "We can't use the amplifier for too long as the batteries are frozen solid." She pointed at a pair of wires that were running from the receiver to the hangar bay.

"We are requesting immediate assistance. I repeat, we need immediate assistance. Over." The voice was trying its best to sound professional.

Chip clicked the transmit button and spoke into the microphone. "This is Chip Maplewood of the Rescue Rangers. Identify yourself and state your authorization code. Over." In the ten years since the Rescue Rangers had been formed, many things had changed. As a result of a massive food shortage and subsequent famine, many of the city's animals took to the streets and started rioting. In an attempt to maintain order, the city formed a basic police department and court system. The Rangers had no interest in becoming police officers and remained their own independent organization. They were largely left alone by the police, although they were asked to help investigate crimes for them on an unofficial basis. In order to keep in better contact, the two groups had an emergency radio line that they could use.

There was a click as the transmission resumed. "This is Officer Smith. Confirm authorization code bravo echo delta six niner. Over."

Chip checked the codebook and found the code to be authentic. He pressed the transmit button. "Code confirmed. How can we assist you? Over." In the last five days, over two feet of snow had fallen, paralyzing the city. Even the human police department was largely shuttered; whatever this was, it must be a major emergency.

"We are getting reports that residents have been disappearing after heading to the aid point."

With the snowfall and bitter cold, there was once again a food shortage across the city. The Rescue Aid Society had donated a great deal of food and other supplies, but needy residents were now forced to journey across the city to the docks to collect it as transportation was impossible to come by. Chip was surprised at the news. These conditions could cause hypothermia in a human in a matter of hours; it could do the same to a chipmunk in minutes. The city's animals were advised to stock up on food and other essentials well in advance of the storm, and Chip thought that everyone would have been better prepared for such an emergency the second time around.

"We have no qualified search and rescue units available. Request that you investigate. Over."

"Do you have any further information on the whereabouts of the missing residents? Over."

"Negative. Residents were reported missing several hours ago. Survival rates decrease exponentially with prolonged exposure. It is imperative that you leave immediately. Over."

"Acknowledged. Over and out." Chip turned his chair around to face the others. "Well, Rangers, we have a case to solve! We need to get out to the docks and find some missing animals." His face lit up as he described their orders.

Dale immediately protested. "In this s-storm?" he asked. "We could die out there! Not even the human police are out on patrol tonight!" Dale admired his brother's courage and dedication to the job, but he thought that Chip was being naïve.

"Don't worry, Dale," Gadget said. "I've been preparing for a situation like this. I've winterized the Ranger Wing and obtained arctic survival clothing from the Rescue Aid Society."

Monty slapped Dale on the shoulder, startling him. "Buck up, Dale, me lad," he said. "It'll be fun! Besides, we've been cooped up for so long that we could use something exciting for a change."

Chip didn't want to waste any more time. "You're trained just like the rest of us. We've got a job to do. Rescue Rangers away!" At that, the collective hearts of the team surged with pride and excitement and they rushed to the hangar bay to get ready for the mission.

The mouse manning the radio turned off the receiver and set the headphones down on the brushed metal console. "It's done," he said. In the corner of the large room, a lone figure lied on a hospital bed. The soft hiss of a nearby respirator could be heard. A solitary yellow eye struggled to keep itself open in the dim light.

"Excellent."


	4. Chapter 4

The hangar bay slowly became visible as the overhead lights warmed up and illuminated the room. Gadget had indeed been busy. Monty, Chip, and Dale had helped her move several large crates into headquarters, but she was so particular about how to build everything that they'd largely left her alone and hadn't seen her new work until now. Gadget opened up a storage locker and handed each Ranger a heavy down hooded parka, gloves, goggles, and a balaclava.

"This is all rated to minus twenty Fahrenheit so we should be good to go with no problems," she said.

The upgraded Ranger Wing was a sight to see. The plane now had a retractable glass canopy over the cockpit. A butane lighter was attached to air ducts that surrounded the engines and the cockpit, keeping the engines, batteries, and passengers warm. The reinforced frame now carried four engines instead of the usual two to account for the weight of the additional gear. The wings had been lengthened and now had a recessed groove cut into it to allow for a length of copper wire to zigzag across its surface so the wings could be heated to clear it of ice. The plane was also fitted with skis, an underbody grappling arm, and was mounted to a spring loaded catapult launching system with metal tracks that led to the bay doors. A Rescue Ranger logo was emblazoned on the side of the fuselage under the cockpit.

Chip ran his gloved hand across the length of the leading edge of the wing. "Gadget! This is amazing!" he said

Dale agreed. "Neat-o!" he said.

"She's a beaut, that's for sure. This is the finest work that I've ever seen you do, love," Monty said fervently.

Even under all of her winter clothing, Gadget visibly blushed. She had worked on this plane for months and was immensely proud of it. The others had complimented her work before, but never like this and never all at once.

"Thanks, guys," she said, embarrassed. "I can't wait to try it out!"

Once the team took their places in the cockpit, Gadget pulled the canopy forward with a faint squeal as the watertight seals were compressed. With all of the heavy clothing everyone was wearing, there wasn't much room inside. The canopy began to fog over as the team breathed in the cold air. With a whirr, the engines roared to life and the plane began to shake. There was a bubbling noise as the heating system was activated. Gadget flicked another switch and the bay doors flashed bright as the plane's floodlights engaged. As the doors opened, they could see and hear nothing but a whipping, howling, solid mass of white. As Gadget released the catapult's safety catch, Chip closed his eyes and silently mouthed a prayer that they would all make it back home alive.


	5. Chapter 5

The Ranger Wing rocked back and forth as it was buffeted by the strong, swirling winds. Chunks of ice banged off the glass. Chip turned to his right and saw more ice forming on the wings, but it began to slide off as the de-icing coils did their work. He turned left and looked at Gadget.

"Gadget!" he shouted, trying to talk over the roar of the engines, "How can you see where we're going?" Even with the xenon headlights, Chip could only see a few feet in front of him. His sense of duty and love of adventure caused him to rush into the mission and now he was having second thoughts. Even with all of the improvements that Gadget had made to the plane, they still had a limited amount of battery power and heating fuel onboard and any collision with a large chunk of ice or snow could be fatal.

"I'm flying by the instruments!" she responded. "The hard part will be the landing! We're about ten minutes out!" Dale and Monty were in the back seats, staring out the window in a vain attempt to pass the time. Zipper was tucked underneath Monty's coat, trying to sleep.

After what seemed like an eternity flying over an endless sea of white, the terrain began to change and they could see wooden slats and trucks; they were at the docks.

Gadget pulled a lever between the front seats and the team lurched forward against their restraints as the plane came to an abrupt halt and began hovering. The plane slowly descended and there was a loud crunch as it touched the ground.

The canopy snapped open as it was caught by the wind. As the team jumped out, they sank deep into the snow. Their fur burned as it was cut into by the wind at the gaps between their clothing and their muscles ached with exertion as they trudged through a desert of white. Shielding his face from the wind, Chip saw a small opening in a nearby building. There was a torn banner with the words LINE FORMS HERE that was flapping back and forth. He waved his arms and led the group into the building.

The rest of the team slumped against the wall in exhaustion as Chip closed the door behind them. They slowly began removing their face coverings, but Dale wasn't moving. He was in a fetal position, shaking uncontrollably. Chip saw him and ran over to his side.

"Dale? Dale! Are you okay?"

"M-my… hand…" Dale said, his teeth chattering.

Chip quickly rolled his brother on his back and stripped off his goggles and face mask. By now, Dale was doubled over and wincing; he was in a great deal of pain. Chip removed Dale's gloves. The right hand was fine, but the left glove had a large gash through it. Gadget came with a first aid kit and handed Chip a pair of scissors that he used to carefully cut away the damaged glove from Dale's hand. The exposed fur and skin was almost black. He'd suffered a severe case of frostbite.

Chip and Gadget removed their parkas and wrapped Dale in them. Monty and Zipper volunteered to go back to the plane for more supplies. The three remaining Rangers sat close to each other for warmth.

As the three waited, Gadget leaned her head on Chip's shoulder as he held Dale's hand. "Hang in there, Dale," Chip said quietly as he tried to console his brother. He looked up at the ceiling as he rested his head against the cold corrugated metal wall.

It suddenly hit him how rash he was behaving. Even though he conceptually understood that he wasn't as young as he was when he started this line of work, it really hadn't sunk in until now as he didn't want to acknowledge it. After each mission he took longer to recover and even then he carried a series of nagging injuries like his sore knee. He might have been able to pull off a mission like this without a second thought ten years ago, but he should be more careful now.

He turned his head to look at Gadget which caused her to lift up her head and look back at him. He saw that while she was still as beautiful as when they had first met, her face had become more aged and weathered and she now had a few gray hairs. Gadget sensed Chip's worries and put her hand on his cheek.

"Your brother will be fine, Chip," she said. "We'll all get back home together." Chip smiled and began to open his mouth to respond as the outside door opened. Monty ran inside, slamming the door behind him and furiously wiped the snow off of his clothes.

"Crikey, that's cold!" Monty said. Zipper, who flew out from underneath Monty's jacket, buzzed in agreement. Monty unzipped a black duffel bag and produced a number of items from it that he set out on the floor. He turned on a small propane heater that he used to boil water that he fed to Dale. He broke the seals on some chemical heating packets which he slid under his injured friend's jacket while Chip and Gadget put theirs back on.

"We've got to keep moving," Chip said, his mind returning to the task at hand now that his brother seemed to be in better shape. "Zipper, you watch over Dale while we keep investigating."

"Yes, sir!" Zipper responded, his demeanor stoic.

As the team progressed deeper into the warehouse, Chip felt that the situation was strange. Why were there no footprints leading to the entrance? While he didn't expect to see much from the plane, the door they went through was the only way into the building unless someone wanted to scale the ice-covered walls and go in through a window. Why was the distribution site inside the building abandoned? All Chip saw was a series of rectangular marks on the ground where there wasn't any dust and a few discarded food packets.

"I found something!" Gadget said as she pointed her flashlight at a series of deep scratches in the old wooden floor that led to a sewer grate. Monty grunted as he pushed the grate aside. He stuck his head down into the opening briefly and then came back up, frowning.

"This isn't right, Chipper."

"I know."

Gadget tied a rope to the grate and dropped the free end down into the sewer. She turned on her flashlight and descended. As the others followed, they landed on a narrow, steep ledge that hugged the right side of the sewer. The water below produced a layer of mist as it came into contact with the cold air. They encountered more scratches on the sides of the wall as the team walked along the ledge. To Chip's eye, they looked to be a mixture of old and new as some of them gleaned when exposed to the light. The trail of scratches stopped abruptly under a grate a few hundred feet from where they entered.

As Chip threw open the grate and climbed out the sewer, he found himself in a large room that was filled with metal boxes. He examined one closely and saw that they were all scratched up.

"Look at this!" he said, pointing at the writing on the side of one of the boxes that read RAS- EMERGENCY RATIONS. There were enough boxes here to feed the city for months! If that was the case, why wasn't this theft reported? "We should report this and get these supplies back to headquarters-"

"Freeze!" The cold, aggressive command emanated from the catwalk above them. Chip, Monty, and Gadget looked up and saw that they were surrounded by police officers, all pointing rifles at them. "Put your hands on your head and drop to your knees!"

Chip tried to explain himself. "There must be some misunderstanding! We're the Rescue Rang-"

"Put your hands on your head and drop to your knees or we will open fire!"

As Chip and the others complied, he was thrown to the ground and his world turned to darkness as a bag was put over his head and he was dragged away.


	6. Chapter 6

"Mr. Prosecutor, your opening statement, please," asked the judge. He was an elderly black rat with a long snout and white, stubby whiskers.

"Thank you, your Honor." The lead prosecutor was a slender, tall mouse with slicked back white fur and was wearing a very expensive white suit and black tie. He took to his statement like an actor rehearsing a powerful scene in a play, pouring all of his energy into his words as if he believed he could convince the jury by his performance alone.

"The state will demonstrate that this band of vigilantes that have the _audacity_ to call themselves the Rescue Rangers-"

"Objection!" The defense attorney, who was a calm, quiet, calculating red squirrel dressed in a cheap brown suit that looked ten years too old and one size too large, interrupted the prosecutor's grand oration of vengeance. "The prosecution is attempting to characterize the defendants with inflammatory statements."

"Sustained," the judge agreed. He peered over his glasses and looked at the prosecutor with a tired expression on his face. "Continue."

"Certainly, your Honor." The prosecutor made a show of deferring to the judge's orders. He was young and hungry for fame, and he knew if he could win this case it would define his career. He was willing to use every dirty play in the book to achieve those results. "-that the Rescue Rangers did knowingly and willfully commit the most heinous crime that our fair city has ever seen!"

"I intend to prove that these five were stealing the city's emergency rations in order to sell them on the black market; supplies that our citizens desperately need in times like this. They were caught red-handed at the scene trying to remove the supplies from the distribution warehouse, ladies and gentlemen! I can't even begin to count the number of residents who've starved to death this winter…"

The team was outraged. They already knew what they were being charged with, but that didn't make it any easier to listen to. Chip shot up from his chair, livid. The defense attorney placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a look asking him to sit back down.

"I can't take much more of this, Reg," Chip whispered to his friend as he took his seat. The two had met in the local library long ago while Chip was reading mystery novels and Reginald was studying law. They developed a mutual respect for each other over their shared desire to fight injustice. Reginald was the only lawyer who would take their case and he did it for free.

"I know, Chip, I know," Reginald said. "But don't make it any harder on yourself by reacting to whatever garbage Lyndon is spouting," he added, referring to the lead prosecutor.

"…over one hundred animals have perished just last week." Lyndon gave a slight smirk as he prepared his final line. "The blood is on their hands. For all we know, this lot caused the first food shortage as well!"

"Objection!" Reginald shouted, exasperated. He knew that the prosecution could implant these falsehoods into the minds of the jury even if the judge ordered them to be stricken from the record.

"Sustained," the judge agreed. "You are on thin ice, Mr. Lyndon."

"I have no further statements, your Honor."

It was Reginald's turn now. He stood up and spoke to the jury with a calm, rational demeanor. With his plain-spoken attitude and disarming Midwestern accent, he talked to the jurors as a father would address his children. Although not easily excitable, his passion emerged when he addressed the courtroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, straightening his back as he spoke, "the Rescue Rangers need no introduction. Many of you have known them all of your lives. Over the last decade, they have tirelessly served this community with compassion and valor, long before there were any organized law enforcement agencies in place. I could pack this courtroom for weeks with countless animals of all ages and backgrounds who could testify as to how their lives were saved by these five. I don't need to do this because deep down you all know what the Rescue Rangers have meant to this city and to all of us personally. They have always been there when you needed them and they have asked for nothing in return. This time, however, they do need your help. Search your conscience and find them innocent of these outrageous and completely unfounded accusations."

"That concludes today's proceedings. This court will meet again in two weeks." The judge banged down his gavel and everyone rose to their feet as he left the courtroom.

"That was a right good speech, Reginald, mate," Monty said over the din of murmurs as the packed crowd exited the courtroom.

"Thank you, Monterrey," Reginald said. He looked tense and preoccupied with his thoughts.

"Do we have a chance?" Chip asked.

Dale was shocked at his brother's question. "Of course we do! We didn't do anything!" In Dale's world, that statement should suffice to acquit them.

"I wish it were that simple, Dale," Reginald said. "Unfortunately, sometimes the truth isn't enough."


	7. Chapter 7

The audience began to chatter excitedly as the Rangers took their seats at the defense table. After an extended stay in the local jail, they were already not in the best of spirits. Now they had to sit silently and endure another hour of Lyndon's exaggerated displays of outrage as he set out to destroy their reputations.

"Corruption!" Lyndon shouted, punching his fist above his head that was clutching several sheets of paper. "Many of you might ask- how did these five manage to steal so many supplies without being detected?" He paused for dramatic effect and took a deep breath as if he was revealing a big secret.

"I have proof that the Rescue Rangers have been accepting payments for years through secret channels inside our very own police department." The crowd gasped collectively as they absorbed the news. "We will hear sworn testimony that they have been running an extortion racket on our city's very own officers!"

Chip did his best to remain calm. He had an unofficial arrangement with the city's detectives that the Rangers would collect a small fee when assisting them on cases. He knew these detectives well and trusted them. How did this information reach the prosecutor so it could be twisted into yet another crime to falsely accuse them of?

Before Lyndon could continue, his assistant handed him a slip of paper. His eyes opened wide with fear as he read it and he quickly approached the bench.

Reginald was irritated. "What on Earth is going on?" he growled under his breath as he got out of his chair and walked over to the front of the courtroom.

Lyndon was nervous. "Your Honor, the prosecution requests a recess," he said, his face dripping with sweat.

"And why should I grant this?" the judge asked, clearly annoyed.

"Uh...urm…the key witness for the prosecution has disappeared. We request time to locate the witness or re-prepare our case."

Reginald pleaded with the judge. "Your Honor, this is most inappropriate! The prosecutor simply cannot halt the trial when it is convenient for him!"

The judge scratched his chin, thinking. "I'll allow you one day to find your witness," he said, "but if you do something like this again I will be forced to request a new prosecutor." He addressed the court. "This court will resume in one day's time," he announced. "Dismissed."

Dale and the others were confused. "What's going on, Reginald?" he asked as the bailiffs began to handcuff them and lead them away.

Reginald looked at Dale with a sullen expression on his face. "I don't know."

In an unusual arrangement, the Rangers were denied access to their lawyer and each of them were placed in solitary confinement. As Chip sat on the cold concrete floor of his small, windowless cell while propping up his head with his hands, the cell door was unlocked and swung open. A brown rat in a prison guard's uniform peered down at him menacingly. He was nearly twice Chip's size with a large broad chest, muscular arms, and fiery red eyes.

"There's someone who would like to see you."


	8. Chapter 8

Chip twisted his arm away to avoid the strong grip of the rat guard who was restraining him.

"Hold it," the rat ordered, holding a key in his hands. Chip rubbed his wrists as the handcuffs fell to the ground. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Chip could see that the large room contained a great deal of surveillance equipment. One large, blocky piece of equipment was covered with a tarp, and one wall was filled with a large bank of televisions showing images of the courtroom. As Chip looked at the wall opposite the televisions, a shadowy figure was lying on a bed. A solitary yellow eye met his gaze and stared at him with great intensity.

"Do come in, do come in," the figure said. The guard pushed Chip forward until he was standing very close to the bed.

"Who are you?" Chip asked.

"Don't you recognize my voice?" the figure asked, shocked at the question. The voice seemed vaguely familiar, but it was hard to tell. The figure on the bed waved his hand at the guard rat and the room slowly began to brighten. Chip gasped as the figure was a very sickly looking Fat Cat!

Fat Cat tried to laugh upon seeing Chip's reaction but ended up in a fit of coughing instead. "That's better," he said bitterly, regaining his composure. After all we've been through I deserve some respect from you."

Fat Cat was a shell of his former self. He had lost a lot of weight and his once taut skin was now hanging off his frame. His rich fur coat was now mottled and there were large sections where the fur was missing entirely. One of his eyes had crusted over and was completely closed. His right arm was intravenously attached to a bag of yellow-green fluid and he had a breathing tube up his nose. His cheeks were sunken and he emitted an odor like rotting flesh. Despite this, he was neatly dressed in his traditional purple coat, blue vest, and red tie and he had combed his hair.

"Did you think I went away for good?" Fat Cat had disappeared two years ago and his gang vanished with him. He left no trace of his presence at the cat food factory that once served as his headquarters. The Rangers believed the rumors that Fat Cat was dead, but that was clearly no longer true.

"All of these years, you've ruined my brilliant plans. You and those pesky Rangers of yours. My failures have been haunting me. I then learned that I had a form of terminal cancer with only a short time to live. I lied here for weeks unable to sleep knowing that all of my dreams of world domination would never come to fruition and that nobody else was capable of continuing my work."

He wiped away the tears from his eyes as he continued to speak. "However," and he emphasized this by pointing at Chip, "I did find a way to leave a legacy after all. If you kept foiling my plans, I figured I should do the same to yours." His voice was filled with glee as he made this last comment. Chip looked confused, and Fat Cat reveled in this. He'd dreamed of this moment for years and he wanted it to play out as well in reality as he'd envisioned it in his mind.

"Remember that first famine a while back? Who do you think caused it? If the animals panic, they will want order. You Rescue Rangers can't control a whole city, so they'll want organized justice, not vigilantes. And _that _is your undoing! _I _control the police! _I _control the courts! Even you can't escape the law!"

Chip crossed his arms and shot back a look of defiance. "We'll just see about that, Fat Cat."

"Still have a bit of fight left in you, eh?" Fat Cat tossed a small booklet on the floor. Chip picked it up and began to panic as he realized that he was holding a copy of the codebook for the emergency radio line.

"Did you enjoy your conversation with Officer… Smith, was it? I know I sure did."

The guard rat pulled away the tarp to reveal the same radio receiver that the Rangers had in their headquarters. Fat Cat looked at Chip with concern. "Did you want to check with the police?" he asked, gesturing at the console. "You're certainly welcome to try. You won't find any such officer or any record of that communication."

Fat Cat bared his yellowed teeth as he smiled at Chip, who was still processing what had been said to him. "You fell right into my trap as I knew you would. This time, there is no escape. I've won." He chuckled, and then became very serious. "And I want you to know-" he leaned forward in his bed until his face was practically touching Chip's, his eye twitching as he summoned his strength, "-that I will spend _every_ last ounce of my energy and _every_ last moment of my remaining days to ensure that the Rescue Rangers are finished forever!" Fat Cat banged his fist on the table repeatedly as he spoke and he delivered these last words with such malice that even Chip was taken aback.

"However, I am not without mercy, even to my mortal enemies," he added piously as he leaned back on the bed. "You and I both know that you'll all be found guilty. There's no way that the public would ever allow a crime like this to go unpunished. They want your heads, and the district attorney will gladly oblige."

He sighed. "Despite my meticulous planning, even a criminal genius like me can't predict Death's timetable. As much as I would love to see the looks on your faces as you are all convicted, I won't live long enough to witness it. So I offer you this choice: Confess to the whole thing. Say it was your idea alone and that the rest of them had no clue what was in those boxes. Allow me the pleasure of watching your miserable life come to an end and I'll let your friends keep theirs."

Fat Cat was becoming annoyed at Chip's lack of response. "How much longer do you want this to go on?" he asked. "I saw the way you reacted during the opening statements. If you thought that was painful to sit through, it's just beginning."

He began to read off a list. "You already know that the officers will be testifying against you, but let's see...what's next? Ah! How about a bunch of scared, beaten peasants who'll claim that you attacked them and stole their food? How about those helpless souls that had to buy rations from you at exorbitant prices while they're starving to death? Care to hear any more?"

"I've learned from our encounters over the years. You all care about your reputations. If you aren't honest enough to admit this about yourself, think about your friends. If you allow this trial to continue, they'll forever carry the shame of being labeled as thieves and murderers, unable to show their faces in public ever again. And that's what you'll have to look forward to even if you _win_."

Chip would never admit this to Fat Cat, but he was right. The lies that Lyndon made about them in court cut through them like a knife; to have the Rescue Rangers be forever remembered as the ones who profited from the death and starvation of others would be an unthinkable fate.

Chip's head was spinning. In all the years he'd battled Fat Cat, he'd had the upper hand. He could always think his way out of a situation. This time, Chip knew he was beaten. He had no choice but to accept Fat Cat's offer. He looked down at the floor, his spirit broken.

"Okay, Fat Cat. You win. Let them go. I'll confess," he said quietly.

Fat Cat smiled with perverse delight and tented his fingers knowing he had finally bested his arch nemesis. "Just remember that I can see and hear everything in that courtroom," he warned, pointing at the bank of televisions and audio equipment. "If you so much as imply that you were set up, the deal is off. Understand?"

Chip, still not making eye contact, nodded.

"Pleasure doing business with you…" Fat Cat said with sadistic sweetness, twirling his whiskers with one hand. As Chip was handcuffed and escorted out of the room, Fat Cat waved at him, laughing maniacally.


	9. Chapter 9

As the proceedings began, the crowd was unusually excited on account of the strange halt to the trial earlier. The Rangers took their customary spots at the defense table with Reginald. They were all exhausted. Chip was behaving strangely as he hadn't made eye contact with any of the others the entire morning; he just stared out into space at nothing in particular.

The judge looked directly at Chip. "I understand the defense has accepted a plea bargain."

"What?" Reginald looked at his other clients and they looked as shocked as he did. He leaned over to whisper in his friend's ear. "What are you doing?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"It's the only option left, Reg." Chip turned his head to look at his friends. "Trust me."

He stood up to address the judge. "Yes, your Honor," he said. "I wish to change my plea to guilty. I have submitted a signed statement indicating that my fellow defendants had no knowledge of my involvement in the theft of the supplies." This caused a shockwave of conversation in the courtroom. The other Rangers were staring at Chip, bewildered.

The judge slammed down his gavel to quiet the crowd. "Very well, Mr. Maplewood," the judge said. He looked at the other Rangers. "Dale Maplewood, Gadget Hackwrench, Monterrey Jack, and Zipper McFly, you have been offered a reduced sentence of time served and two years of parole. As part of your agreement, you are not to associate with each other. Effective immediately, the criminal organization known as the Rescue Rangers is hereby dissolved. Do you agree to these terms?"

The four Rangers stood to address the judge. "Yes, your Honor," they replied in unison. They still weren't sure what was going on, but they trusted Chip with their lives so they obeyed his wishes.

The judge then looked back at Chip. "As for you, Mr. Maplewood," he said, "this court has no choice but to sentence you to death by gas chamber. I must say that I am deeply saddened to see such an outstanding member of the community sink to such a despicable low. May God have mercy on your soul." The bang of the gavel echoed throughout the silenced courtroom. "Court dismissed."

Chip turned to face Monty and Zipper, who were trying their best not to cry.

"That's a very brave thing you did, mate," Monty said. "Don't you worry, though," he added, "We'll sort this whole thing out and you'll be back with us in no time." He hugged his friend, knowing his promise was most likely futile.

Chip looked at Gadget. For so long he wasn't confident enough to express his true feelings towards her. Now that he was never going to see her again, he summoned up what little courage he had left.

"Gadget," he began, taking her hands in his, "I- I've been wanting to tell you this for a long time."

"I know," she replied, squeezing his hands tightly, "I love you too." She gave Chip a long, passionate kiss.

Chip then looked at Dale, who was crying uncontrollably at the thought of losing his brother. "Don't do this, Chip! I can't lose you!"

Chip placed his hands on Dale's shoulders. "It's your turn to lead the Rescue Rangers."

"What?" Dale replied, red-faced and sniffing back tears. "I- I can't…"

With astonishing affection, Chip kissed his brother on the forehead and embraced him.

"Oh, Dale..." Chip smiled as he looked intently into his brother's eyes. He began to cry. "For as long as I've known you, you've never believed in yourself. You always put yourself down. You have no idea just how special you are. I love you, brother."

The bailiff placed his hand on Chip's shoulder; it was time to go. As the two started to walk away, Dale tried to go after them but Monty and Gadget held him back.

"Chip! Chip!" Dale cried out to his brother.

He stared at the courtroom doors.

"He's gone," he said at last.


	10. Chapter 10

Dale was unceremoniously ushered to a rear room of the courthouse and shoved out the back door.

"Hey!" he yelled, pounding on the metal door that quickly shut behind him, "What about my stuff?" The door opened slightly and Dale's coat was tossed outside. "Thanks a lot," he said, his voice bitter.

As Dale turned around to figure out where he was, he shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight that reflected off the frozen ground below. After being in solitary confinement for so long, the light was practically blinding him. He wondered where the others were.

He then heard a sharp whistle coming from a nearby tree. As he got closer, he could see that Reginald was there waiting for him. He was wearing a brown overcoat with an upturned collar and a flat red tweed cap. His hands were in his pockets and he was pacing back and forth furiously, smoking a cigarette.

"Reginald!" he said. "Where are the others?"

"I don't know, Dale." Reginald flicked his cigarette to the ground. "I had a feeling they might do this to you, so I've been waiting here for hours. Your friends' releases were staggered so you couldn't get together. I can tell you that they will meet you at your emergency safe house at 2300 hours tonight. Do you have some place to go in the meantime? You're welcome to stay with me if you like. It's not much, but it's warm."

"No thanks. I don't want to get you mixed up in all this," Dale said.

Reginald smiled. "That's what the others said as well. Chip chose his companions carefully. I will do what I can to help your brother. If you need my help again, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Reginald."

"Be careful, Dale." The two shook hands and went in opposite directions.

The park was eerily beautiful this night as the sky was filled with a dim white glow from the full moon. One by one, a series of small creatures quickly darted from tree to tree, cloaked in shadow.

Dale arrived at the designated checkpoint and felt around the base of the dead oak tree until he detected a split in the bark that he wedged open enough to slide through. Once inside the tree, he looked upwards to see that a series of small lights had been nailed to the inside of the trunk that illuminated a rope ladder. Dale climbed the rungs, his breath hanging in the cold air as he ascended. When he got close to the top of the ladder, a slender gloved hand reached out toward him. He grasped it and was lifted up into a narrow passage.

"Thank goodness you're okay, Dale," Gadget said. She held him tightly. "We weren't sure if you'd get Reginald's message." She took his hand and led him to a small room where Monty and Zipper were waiting for them. The room was lit with a single incandescent bulb overhead and the walls were hastily surrounded with fiberglass insulation. In the harsh light, they looked like ghosts.

"Glad to see you again, Dale," Monty said warmly. "Have you had a bite to eat yet? Food's a bit hard to come by these days, but I managed to get us something." He took a small piece of cheese from his knapsack and offered it to Dale.

"Thanks, Monty," Dale said, quickly shoving the food in his mouth. "I'm starving!"

Monty's face became very somber. "I have something else for you, too," he said, producing a paper package. As Dale tore away the wrapping, he saw that it was Chip's hat and leather jacket, neatly folded.

"I found them in the trash when I was searching for food."

Dale clutched the items tightly to his chest. His tears fell onto the cold, stiff leather.

"Thank you," he said at last.

"We'll get Chip back, I promise you that," Monty proclaimed, trying to boost his friend's spirits.

"Right!" Gadget agreed energetically. "But how do we do that?"

Monty scratched his chin. "Someone clearly set us up, but who?"

"It could be someone in the police department," Gadget suggested.

"Or it could be that crazy prosecutor," Monty added. He turned to Dale. "What do you think, mate?" he asked.

Dale wasn't paying attention. His back slid down the wall until he fell to the ground in a sitting position. "I- I want to go home!" he cried out, sniffing back tears. The loss of his brother brought Dale's world to an end. He desperately wanted some degree of normalcy, something to cling onto. He wanted to go home.

"We've already checked headquarters," Gadget said. "The police have seized it as evidence."

Realizing that Dale was in great pain, she changed her approach and spoke to him in a motherly tone of voice. "But we could go in and get something for you if you like," she offered. "Maybe you'd enjoy reading some of your comic books?" Dale nodded in agreement.

Once the Rangers emerged from their hideout, they began to walk the length of the park to get to headquarters. When they got closer, they saw that there was a crowd of animals that had gathered underneath the tree that served as their home. The crowd was in a fervor, holding protest signs and howling for revenge. The city's animal population was extremely unhappy with the plea deal as they wanted all of the Rangers to die for their crimes.

One of the protestors had a clear container of liquid in his hand with a piece of cloth sticking out of it. He used a match to light the cloth and flashed a sadistic smile as the flame took hold. The mouse ran toward the tree and grunted as he hurled the bottle over his head. The bottle flew through the sky and produced a thunderous boom as it hit the hangar bay door, shattering and spraying liquid fire around it. A torrent of orange balls filled the sky as the others joined in and the Rangers' home was soon enveloped in a living mass of flame that writhed and roared as the structure began to burn. Smoke poured out of the broken windows.

"Oh, God!" Gadget buried her head in Monty's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. The others silently stared at the burning tree. They knew there was nothing they could do.

Dale's mind was racing. He didn't know how to react. He felt dead inside. Then, suddenly, a spark inside of him came to life. He thought of what Chip had said to him in the courtroom. Someone had taken away his brother, burned down his house, and ruined all of their lives. He vowed not to let them get away with it.

He stepped in front of the others, who were still watching the fire. "We're going to break Chip out of jail," he said, his voice filled with determination and rage.

"What?" Monty responded, bewildered. "We don't even know-"

Dale cut him off. "You heard me! Chip could die at any time in there and we can't solve this case without him!"

Monty had never seen this side of Dale before. He thought to protest again as this was a foolish, impulsive idea even to him, but he saw the fire in Dale's eyes and realized there was no changing his mind.

He relented. "Okay, mate," he said. "What's your plan?"

"Follow me!" Dale yelled as he charged boldly into the darkness.


	11. Chapter 11

A torrent of freezing rain fell over the city as Dale led the Rangers on a mad dash across its streets. Ice crystals pummeled his body like small rocks. With his thin coat and exposed fur, his body began to burn and he became increasingly tired as the cold sapped his energy. He had a pounding headache, but he didn't care. Eventually, he just felt numb. His progress began to slow as he had to climb up snow banks and stumble across patches of black ice.

He heard voices calling out behind him. "Dale! Wait for us!" the others yelled as they caught up to him.

"Where are we going?" Gadget asked as she stopped to catch her breath.

"We're going to your dad's old workshop," he announced.

"Geegaw's place is clear across town!" Monty replied. "How are we supposed to get there?" Monty was beginning to think that he should lead the Rangers instead of Dale, but he deferred to Chip's judgment and decided to let Dale proceed with his plan for now.

"Uh.." Dale began to say, and then stopped abruptly. Back in the park everything seemed so simple. He was going to get Chip out of jail and together they were going to stop whoever had framed them! His old pattern of self-doubt began to resurface as he mulled over his options. A dull pain started to form in his stomach. He then told himself that he could succeed and forced the doubting thoughts out of his head.

He then saw a man on the sidewalk shielding his ears with his hands as he ran across the street and into a parked vehicle. He thought the man was crazy for being outside on a night like this, and then it occurred to him that there were people who had to be out during a snowstorm!

Dale's face lit up. "We can get a ride on a snowplow!" he said. "They drive all over the city and the distribution center is in the same area as Geegaw's place."

"That's a bonzer idea, Dale!" Monty was impressed. "And I know where to find one, too!" After trudging through the mushy, icy sleet for a few more blocks, they arrived at Ma's diner. "Even truck drivers have to eat," he explained. He was right; despite the terrible weather, Ma kept her diner open 24 hours to give the handful of cops, ambulance, and snowplow drivers that had to work during the storm a place to rest, grab some hot coffee, and get a good meal. As they approached the chain link fence that surrounded the parking lot, they heard the low rumble of a diesel engine. The driver had gone inside the diner and left the truck's engine running.

"How do we get inside?" Dale asked.

"I can take care of that," Gadget said nonchalantly. She walked over to a snow covered trash bag that was lying on the ground behind the diner. "Help me get this open," she asked. Dale and Monty wiped away the snow off the bag while Gadget tore the plastic. She retrieved a remnant of an old dish towel. Monty helped her tear it into long, thin strips which she tied together to form a rope. She then pulled a paper clip out of her pocket that she fashioned into a grappling hook that was now attached to one end of the cloth rope.

"And you guys were always making fun of me for carrying these things around!" she said with a laugh, chiding them. She handed the completed device to Monty, who swung it over his head and tossed the hook towards the truck's running board where it caught on the metal. Zipper flew up to the truck and confirmed that the hook was holding.

One by one, Monty, Gadget, and Dale climbed the rope and got into the truck's cab. Hiding under the passenger seat, they sat down against the seat's suspension springs. After being stuck outside all day, the heated truck cabin was a welcome respite.

To say that today had been trying would be a colossal understatement. The four Rangers were all exhausted and the loss of their leader and friend was palpable. They tried to rest but each Ranger spent the night awake with their thoughts, trying to figure out how to proceed.


	12. Chapter 12

The Rangers clanged against the metal springs as the snowplow came to an abrupt halt. They jumped out of the cabin and onto a pile of snow below. It was a gloomy, overcast day; fitting weather for the mood they were in.

"There it is!" Gadget said as she pointed at the aircraft hangar that served as her father's workshop.

As they walked inside, it was like going back in time. Had it really been ten years since they had all first met? The hangar was still abandoned. It looked even worse than before. A part of the ceiling had caved in and the snow that had fallen through the opening had turned into a frozen stream of ice that halted halfway towards the ground. There were piles of scrap metal and discarded tools everywhere. The ground was covered in pools of semi-frozen grease.

Dale was leading the group, pushing ahead at a quick pace followed by Gadget and Monty. As they continued their journey, Gadget put her head down slightly and slowed her pace to match Monty's, who looked at her and noticed the tears forming in her eyes.

"You miss your dad, don't you?" Monty asked. She nodded her head. "Come here, Gadget, love," he said compassionately, putting his arm over her shoulder. Since Geegaw's death, Monty thought of Gadget as his daughter. "I know it hurts, lass, I do," he said. "But don't you worry. We'll always be here for you. You can count on it." The two had stopped walking and Monty gently pushed back the loose strands of hair that had fallen over her face and wiped away her tears with his hands.

"Thanks, Monty," she said quietly.

Dale had overheard their conversation and stopped his progress. He felt guilty for only focusing on his feelings over losing Chip and hadn't stopped to consider that the others were hurting, too. He realized that if he wanted to be a leader he would have to consider the impact of his decisions on the rest of the team as well.

He turned around to face them. "I'm sorry for bringing you here, Gadget," he admitted. "I didn't think about how hard it would be for you."

"It's okay, Dale," she replied. "I thought I was over it, but I guess I was lying to myself."

The four Rangers were now side by side as they continued. Monty tried to cheer up Gadget. "Remember the time your dad caught you taking apart the Screaming Eagle when you were just a tyke and when he asked why you told him that you could do a better job with the design?"

Gadget, Monty, Dale, and Zipper all laughed together at Monty's tale. After all they had been through recently, it felt good to focus on something pleasant for once.

"Your dad sounded like a great guy," Dale said.

"Yes, he was," Gadget responded. "You'd have liked him."

At last, they arrived at the workshop. As they looked at the room that was lit with the dusty beams of sunlight that came from the ceiling, everything was as it was the last time they were here. All of the sprung traps had rusted and were covered in cobwebs. There was garbage everywhere.

Gadget rolled up her sleeves and put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the state of the shop. "If we're going to stay here, we need to clean this place up," she announced. She pushed aside some of the trash and flipped on the generator. Slowly, the overhead lights came on. As Monty and Zipper began to clean up, Dale took Monty aside.

"I have a mission for you."


	13. Chapter 13

As the sun began to set, Gadget, Zipper, and Dale had cleared the last of the garbage around the workshop when Monty returned.

The room now had a large metal table with an overhead light, another smaller table with various hand tools and welding equipment, and a sleeping area that had been sectioned off with old shop towels.

Monty slammed down a large bag onto the center of the table where the others had gathered.

"Did you get everything?" Dale asked.

Monty frowned. "Oh, I did, but you aren't going to like what I found out." He unrolled a large paper map that looked like it had architectural plans on it.

"What's this?"

"That's where Chip's being held," Monty responded.

Monty had scoured the city's criminal districts and purchased the information on Chip's whereabouts from informants and former prisoners and the arctic commando clothing from the black market. For the right price, these animals would sell out just about anyone.

Dale looked down at the floor. "I thought he'd be at a local jail," he admitted.

Monty shook his head. "Sorry, mate. They keep the high value prisoners here."

"This place is a fortress. It's surrounded by high concrete walls and guard towers and can only be approached by sea as it's on an island a few miles offshore. Even if we get to Chip, there are guards that can be activated at a moment's notice to search the island for any escaping prisoners. If we somehow manage to avoid the patrols, the police on the mainland will be alerted by radio and will be waiting for us when we get back. We have to hit them hard, and we have to hit them all at once."

Monty tapped the map with his finger.. "This is where I'd approach. This part is the least guarded because someone would have to be bonzer loco to try to get up that way!"

As Monty continued to describe the layout of the prison compound, Dale scratched the top of his head in confusion.

"So let me get this straight," he said. "We have to do all of this stuff at the same time to have a chance?"

"Right-o, Dale," Monty replied.

"And we don't have any way of getting there?" Dale continued.

"That's right."

"And we don't have any equipment?"

"Correct."

"And how long do we have?"

"A few days, tops."

Dale looked at the others with a grim expression on his face. He sighed. "I thought you said this was going to be hard!" he said at last, laughing and pounding his fist on the table.

The others all laughed at his joke. They knew that this was easily one of the most difficult missions that they'd ever come across. Chip would be executed if they failed and even if they succeeded in breaking him out they might not make it off the island alive anyway. Still, they appreciated Dale's efforts to boost their spirits.

As night fell, the four Rangers poured over the details on the map long into the morning as they developed a plan to rescue their friend.


	14. Chapter 14

Dale surveyed the Rangers' building projects as he walked across the length of the workshop. Monty was cutting up aluminum soda cans into flat star-shaped patterns that he stacked up next to a pile of paper clips and a roll of fishing line.

A spray of sparks emanated from the edge of the room as Gadget began to weld together a metal frame.

Dale gently squeezed her shoulder to get her attention. "How's it going, Gadget?" he asked.

Gadget flicked up her welding helmet and wiped the sweat and grime from her face. "It's coming along great, Dale. I just need a few more things from my list and we'll be finished. Can you get them for me?"

"Sure!" he replied, taking the scrap of paper from her hand.

Dale and Zipper began to dig through a pile of garbage at the end of the hangar looking for the last of Gadget's items. Dale pulled out a small length of steel tubing and a thin metal pole. "Check," he said as he crossed the items off the list. Zipper flew up to a high shelf and began to chatter excitedly.

"You found some? Nice work, Zipper!" Dale ran at the base of the shelf and slammed into it with his shoulder. A cardboard box fell to the ground and landed with a thump, throwing up a cloud of dust. Dale wiped the dirt off of the box and read the words FEDERAL CARTRIDGE COMPANY- .22 LONG RIFLE 50 COUNT. He opened it and found the cartridges to be tarnished and rusty, but still in serviceable condition. "That should do it!" he said as he pushed the box back to the workshop.

"How much did you find?" Monty asked as Dale and Zipper arrived with the cartridge box.

"We got fifty rounds worth," Dale said.

"Bang up job, lads!" Monty rubbed his hands together excitedly. "This is my favorite part."

As Dale held the brass casing of the rifle cartridge, Monty grasped the lead bullet with a pair of pliers and popped it free from the casing as he twisted it. Dale poured the gunpowder into a cut down soda can. After they had broken down nearly all of the ammunition, Monty scooped out some of the gunpowder with a thimble and poured several scoops' worth over a square of light green cloth that he wrapped into a ball. He stuck in a length of fuse cord and tied the bag shut. He then surrounded the powder bag with a chunk of modeling clay, leaving only a short section of the fuse exposed.

When he was finished, Monty and Dale carried the clay-wrapped bombs and set them down next to a blue bag and the metal pipe that was now plugged at one end.

"Remember that we only have a few of these, Dale-" he warned, pointing at the bombs, "-and only one of those," pointing at the blue sack, "so make them count."

Dale nodded. "I will."

Dale, Monty, and Zipper walked over to where Gadget was putting the finishing touches on her latest invention.

It never ceased to amaze them how Gadget could build something from a pile of garbage. The tubular metal frame now supported a glass jar on one end that contained a flashlight inside of it and was lashed to the frame with metal pipe clamps. The jar was wrapped with yellow fiberglass insulation. There was an R/C car battery pack in the middle of the frame that was held down with zip ties and the back of the frame held a small water pump. All of the electrical connections were covered in hot glue and duct tape to make them waterproof. The frame was mounted on four small wheels.

Gadget was holding a small remote and the elevators and rudder moved up and down as she actuated the servo motors near the water pump. She was already dressed in her white arctic commando jacket and hat. She turned around and smiled as she saw the astonished looks on the other Rangers' faces.

"What do you think of my submarine?" she asked.

"You've outdone yourself again, Gadget, love," Monty responded.

"Your dad would be proud," Dale added.

"Thanks, guys," she said. "Do you have the rest of the equipment ready?"

Dale, Monty, and Zipper, similarly dressed, held their knapsacks and cloth bags in the air. "Ready!" they announced, smiling.

"Then let's go!" Gadget said, her voice full of enthusiasm. Dale and Monty loaded their gear into the jar, turned on the flashlight, and sealed it shut with the threaded lid. Together, the four of them pushed the submarine out of the hangar under the cover of darkness and across the asphalt road until they reached the frozen beach that formed the shoreline. They picked a spot where the ice pack had cracked and climbed into the submarine as Gadget closed the lid behind them. They all shifted their weight forward so the vessel rolled down the beach and into the frigid water. Once they began to sink, the water pump gurgled as it activated and propelled them forward. As the Rangers cruised underneath the white ice and through the endless expanse of clear blue water, they hoped that they were not too late.


	15. Chapter 15

The submarine was engulfed in light as the sun's rays penetrated the dark water through the holes in the ice. Monty pointed at a hole that was a few yards away from the shore.

"Put her up there, love," he said.

"Right." Gadget cut the power to the motor and used their momentum to place them directly under the hole and emptied the ballast tank to make the sub rise to the surface.

Dale checked his gear one last time before he made his way to the rear of the jar. As he closed up his bag, Gadget walked over, kissed him on the cheek and embraced him.

"Good luck, Dale," she said tenderly. "We'll all meet at the rendezvous point when this is over."

Dale held her tightly. "I will, Gadget. Take care of yourself too."

"Good luck, mate." Monty put his hands on Dale's shoulders as he smiled at him. "Bring Chip back to us in one piece, okay?"

"I will, Monty," Dale said. "I'll see all of you later."

Dale unscrewed the lid and jumped out onto the ice. Monty handed him his gear and closed the jar. As the submarine began to disappear into the water, Monty, Gadget, and Zipper all waved their goodbyes.

Dale sat on the edge of the ice as he opened his bag and retrieved his homemade crampons. The aluminum patterns had been bent by ninety degrees at the sides to form spikes and the flat portion now had lengths of thin wire welded along its surface. Dale slipped his feet underneath the wires and twisted them down tightly to secure the shoes.

Getting to his feet, he found that the crampons provided a decent grip on the ice. He turned himself around and got a first look at the island. Through the fog and whipping snow that howled at him and stung his face, he made out the base of the island ahead. As he looked up, he saw a sheer rock face that rose straight up for what seemed like a mile until he could see the grey concrete wall that formed the outer perimeter of the prison. Slinging his gear over his shoulder, he walked across the ice until he touched down on the frozen rocky surface of the shoreline.

When he was able to see the top edge of the rock face, Dale unslung a long metal tube from his shoulder that had a large reel of fishing line attached to it. He unscrewed the breech plug and verified that the .22 cartridge was there and the clay wadding that plugged the open end of the casing was making a good seal. He took out a large nail from his backpack and placed it down the muzzle of the tube and tied the free end of the line to the metal loop that had been welded to the nail.

Dale unfolded the wire butt stock from the underside of the launcher. Lifting the launcher up from the ground, he pressed the stock tightly against his shoulder. Closing his right eye, he aligned the front and rear sights on the top of the tube and focused the top of the front sight just above the edge of the rock face. He let out the last of the air in his lungs and slowly squeezed the trigger.

The nail shot out of the launcher with a deafening crack that threw him backwards as he absorbed the punishing recoil. The spool spun with a high pitched whine as the line quickly unfurled. After a few seconds, Dale heard a small _clink!_ as the nail struck stone.

He slowly made his way to the base of the cliff where he set down the launcher. He tugged on the line and confirmed that it was holding. Taking a deep breath, he transferred his weight to the line and kicked his spikes deep into the ice.

Looking up, Dale saw nothing but an unending vertical sheet of ice and a small string that fell from the fog and fluttered in the cold, merciless wind.

"I'm coming, Chip," he said quietly.


	16. Chapter 16

Monty smiled as he encountered a series of wooden posts jutting through the ice and into the frozen mud of the sea floor by the few beams of sunlight that penetrated the frozen surface as he piloted the submarine through the docks. He could also see the red metal hulls of the patrol ships that were floating above him.

If Monty didn't destroy these boats, they would be on the other side of the island within minutes looking for Chip and Dale as they were making their way to the rendezvous point.

He quickly revved the pump to its maximum speed for a few moments and cut the power as he passed underneath the edge of the ice sheet he was hiding under. His momentum carried him silently across the open water and underneath the thick wooden beams that made up the dock platform.

He surfaced and slowly opened the lid of the glass jar. Balancing on the metal frame that swayed back and forth in the water, he placed the explosives on the underside of the dock.

Monty then gently pressed up on each slat until he found one with a loose nail that attached it to the dock frame. He carefully pushed up on the board, placed a match head inside the gap, and put the end of the fuse alongside it. If the guards tried to get on their boats, they'd trip his homemade proximity detonator. Monty put the submarine in reverse as he slowly backed out from underneath the dock and hid himself under another nearby patch of floating ice. He clicked on his radio.

"I'm in position."


	17. Chapter 17

Gadget wiped off the condensation that fogged her binocular lenses as she peered at the top of the antenna that was on the roof of the communications tower. The tower handled all signal traffic to and from the island and also served as a relay station between the main compound and the docks on the far side of the island.

She crawled slowly through the deep snow, keeping herself well hidden from the handful of patrolling guards until she reached the rear of the building where the strong winds had piled nearly a foot of snow underneath the area where the cable from the antenna entered the building.

Gadget turned on her flashlight and burrowed into the snow drift until she saw the thick black communications cable. She flipped open her pocket knife and carefully scraped away a section of the cable's outer sheath and insulation layers. She attached a pair of alligator clips to the exposed copper wire that ran to the portable amplifier in her backpack and she was now able to eavesdrop on all of the island's communications traffic through her headphones. She widened the hole she was in and placed her bag of explosives inside. Without the tower, the compound would be unable to contact the patrol boats or alert the mainland about a missing prisoner..

Gadget punched a hole through the top of the tunnel so she could get a clear signal. "I'm in position," she whispered.


	18. Chapter 18

With trembling hands, Dale hammered a piton into the ice. He connected himself to the new line using his carabiner. His heart was pounding and his muscles burned with exertion as he kicked his crampons into the ice and continued to climb, oblivious to the ice crystals that had formed on his exposed fur.

He had risen above the fog but he still had no idea how much further he had to go. He desperately wanted to rest but he pressed ahead. He had lost all sense of time; it felt like he had been climbing forever. Step by step, foot by foot, he kept ascending.

Slowly, he began to make out an object jutting out from the rock face. It was the nail that he'd fired into the rock. He'd made it to the top!

Dale's heart sank when he realized that he'd misjudged his shot as he still had several feet to go and he was out of pitons. He reached for his ice axe on his belt and drove the head as deeply into the ice as he could. Slowly, he pulled himself up until he was standing on the nail. The line was now completely taut and he freed himself from it with his carabiner.

Dale reached for his second axe and punched it into the ice. He slipped off the nail as he prepared to kick his feet into the rock face. His feet were dangling below him as he tried desperately to kick his spikes into the ice. He screamed in pain as his biceps began to twitch uncontrollably as he struggled to maintain his grip.

Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, he ripped out the left hammer and stretched his arm as far as he could and blindly brought the pick down on a hard surface. He held onto the handle for dear life as he advanced the other axe and with a great shout he lifted himself up and over the rock face and onto the soft snow above. He rolled onto his back and wheezed desperately as he tried to breathe. His body was on fire.

Crawling on all fours, he pressed ahead until he could hear the echoes of his footsteps underneath him. He wiped away the snow to reveal a metal plate that had been welded over the abandoned sewer drain that would allow him to sneak into the compound undetected. Dale activated the radio that was sewn into his cap and he had to shout as he tried to speak over the howling wind.

"I'm in position!"


	19. Chapter 19

Dale opened his backpack and pulled out a blue cloth bag. Tearing it open, he found a long coil of clay that he placed over the plate. He stuck a length a fuse into the coil, lit it with a match, and quickly stepped back.

The coil burst into a wall of red flame and sparks as the thermite ignited. In a matter of seconds, a section of the plate was cut away and fell to the bottom of the tunnel with a loud clang. He began to descend down the ladder when he heard Gadget's frantic voice over the radio.

"Dale! Do you read me?"

"Gadget? What's wrong?"

"It's Chip! They're taking him! You need to get there right now!"

Dale was stunned. According to their source, they had arrived a full day before Chip's scheduled execution. Their entire rescue plan relied on precise coordination and secrecy and now it was completely useless.

"I'm going in now, Gadget!" Dale shouted. "I want you to take out your target in ten minutes!"

"What are you going to do?" Gadget asked. There was panic in her voice.

"Forget about me! That's an order!"

Carrying the cut away plate by its metal handles, he climbed back up the ladder and threw the plate on the ground. He kicked it down the slope in front of him and watched it slide and crash against the concrete wall. He retrieved a bomb from his bag, stuck it against the wall, and took cover as he lit the fuse.

The ground shook as the explosion ripped a hole into the wall. Dale's ears were ringing. He put the plate in front of the hole and backed away.

Looking ahead, he saw that the slope continued downwards in front of him past a series of evergreen trees and to the prison building. The alarms had sounded.

All of Dale's fears quieted and his body stopped hurting as he thought about his brother. He broke into a sprint and leapt onto the plate head first.

Dale quickly picked up speed as the sled sunk down into the snow and skidded along the ice. He shifted his weight left and right to dodge the trees that whizzed by him and exploded in a shower of splinters as the guards opened fire. Through the spray of powder and ice in front of him, Dale realized that he was heading straight toward the prison building. He landed hard on his side as he rolled off the board and thrust his axe into the ground to bring him to a sudden halt as the plate continued sliding and slammed into the concrete wall.


	20. Chapter 20

The loud clank of the locking mechanism made Chip jump as the door of his cell swung open to reveal the large guard rat. He dangled the handcuffs in front of Chip's face, smiling as he shook them up and down.

"It's your big day," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Chip got up from his bed and onto his feet. He held out his arms and shuddered as he heard the loud _click!_ of the handcuffs being tightened. The guard pushed him out of his cell and into the long corridor. The hallway consisted of nothing but grey concrete walls, rusty steel doors, and a series of overhead incandescent bulbs covered with long necked olive green cylindrical hoods. At the very end of the hallway, Chip saw the two red swinging metal doors that led to the gas chamber.

The guard pointed at a small video camera that was mounted on the ceiling and looking directly at them.

"Smile for the camera."

Chip reluctantly looked up at the lens.

"Move it!" the guard ordered, shoving Chip towards the red doors.

There was a click as the intercom was activated.

"Now, now, Stamper," Fat Cat said with mock concern, "There's no need for that. Take your time. I want to enjoy this moment as long as possible."

Chip looked down at the floor in resignation as he continued to walk. He had vowed to show defiance towards Fat Cat as he counted down the days before his execution but now that the moment had arrived he realized that he no longer had any fight left in him.

The hallway shook with a concussive, deafening blast that sent both of them to the ground. Chip saw a wall of dust ahead that flashed white as the snow blew in. A figure emerged and turned to face them.

"Get away from him!" Dale shouted, snarling. Chip didn't recognize his brother. His jacket was covered in ice. His bleeding, dirty face was taut and he had an aggressive appearance like a tiger about to pounce. He wasn't the goofy chipmunk he remembered.

He was a warrior.

Stamper was doubled over laughing. "Or what? What do you think you can do to me?" He grabbed Chip by the back of his orange jumpsuit and threw him forward where he struck the wall with his head and crumpled onto the floor.

"Chip!" Dale looked helplessly at his brother's motionless body.

As Chip opened his eyes, he saw his brother running directly at Stamper carrying a large metal plate in his hands. Stamper stood his ground and laughed. The plate's edge was pointing directly at the guard's chest as Dale closed the gap and at the last moment he tipped it upward and leapt into the air to drive the edge directly into the rat's chin with a sickening crunch that caused him to take several steps backwards.

Chip was shocked at the speed and savagery of Dale's onslaught as he swung the plate into the rat's skull again and again, screaming incoherently the entire time.

Amazingly, Stamper didn't go down. He finally got a hold of the board and flung it aside, bearing his broken teeth while he spat the blood out of his mouth. Dale charged at him again but Stamper's reach was far greater and he slammed his massive fist into Dale's side, causing him to lose his footing as the blow had broken his ribs.

Stamper grabbed Dale by his neck and lifted him into the air. Dale struggled to breathe as the guard's grip tightened.

As black spots began to cloud his vision, Dale reached behind his back and quickly swung his axe into the rat's hand.

Dale dropped to the ground and scraped the axe head across the floor as he glared at his adversary who was clutching his broken hand. Dale twirled the axe with a flourish and brought the head down on the side of Stamper's knee who screamed in agony as the joint gave way.

Dale calmly removed the guard's keys from his belt and used them to unlock a nearby cell door. With all of his strength, he swung the door into Stamper's face.

Chip cautiously approached his brother who was standing over the rat's unconscious body like a hungry wolf salivating over a kill. He gently placed his hand on Dale's cheek.

Dale gazed intently into his brother's eyes with a panicked expression on his face as he began to cry. He held onto Chip with a desperate intensity as he broke down into sobs.

"I thought I'd lost you again!"

"I'm fine, thanks to you," Chip responded as tears formed in his eyes.

"I love you, Chip!"

"I love you too, Dale." Chip noticed that Dale's pulse began to slow as he continued to embrace him.

Dale winced. Chip looked at him with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'll live. We need to get of here. Follow me!"

Dale threw open the swinging red doors that led to the gas chamber. As he peered through the thick glass of the chamber, he saw a large metal pipe that was coming out of the wall. He dashed past the execution room and came across a locked cabinet. He broke the lock with his axe and saw a large tank with the words CAUTION- METHANE GAS written on it. He placed the last of his explosives on the tank.

"Gadget? Monty?" Do you read me?" Dale tapped the radio that was embedded in his hat with his finger and discovered that it had shattered into pieces.

Dale tied together all of his remaining fuses. As he was about to light them, he realized that he didn't have a way to get to the rendezvous point. He desperately tried to think of a solution when he felt something cold pressing against his side. He frantically searched the guard's key ring and smiled as he lit the fuse.

"Here's our ticket out."


	21. Chapter 21

Dale slowly cracked open the door to the courtyard that formed the center of the compound. It was now midday and the sun was shining brightly, but all of the snow still made for poor visibility. The area was swarming with guards.

"We're trapped," Chip said as he leaned his head against the wall after looking outside for himself. The situation seemed hopeless to him.

Dale was much more confident. "Not quite yet, Chip," he replied with a smirk. He glanced at his watch.

The guards began to panic as a flash of light could be seen off in the distance followed by a deep, low rumble. There was yet another blast a few seconds after the first.

"Now!" Dale yelled as he charged outside and ran straight toward a mouse on a nearby snowmobile. The guard was still adjusting his helmet as Dale crashed into him with his shoulder and knocked him off the driver's seat. Chip sat on the rear holding on to Dale's shoulders as he gunned the engine and turned around to drive back up the slope where he had breached the outer perimeter. They were traveling at a high rate of speed and they bounced up and down violently as the snowmobile flew over the ruts in the ice and the trunk shards that were strewn about the hill.

Chip looked back and saw there were several snowmobiles that were chasing after them.

"We've got company!" Chip yelled into Dale's ear.

"We're almost there!" Dale shouted back in response. He cracked open the throttle as the hill became progressively steeper. Puffs of snow popped up around them as the guards opened fire. One shot narrowly missed the back of Dale's head and shattered the windshield.

Chip reached for one of the ice axes that was strapped to Dale's back and hurled it at the bright muzzle flashes from the closest pursuer. The vehicle began to sway back and forth uncontrollably and erupted in a ball of flame as it crashed into a nearby tree.

"Nice throw!" Dale commented as he saw the explosion from the rear view mirror.

The tachometer climbed into the red as Dale opened the throttle completely. "Come on!" he yelled in desperation as the vehicle began to smoke and shudder as it struggled to get over the slope.

They rolled off of the snowmobile and sprinted across the last few yards to the edge of the cliff. Bullets ricocheted off the rock all around them. Dale reached out behind him and held Chip's hand as hard as he could.

"Hold on!"

Chip felt the flames lick at his fur as they leapt over the edge and fell through the sky.


	22. Chapter 22

"Do you see anything yet, Gadget?" Monty asked as he leaned against the submarine that was hidden in a small cove on the far end of the island. They had been waiting for hours at the rendezvous point. Although the sun was still out, the island was now covered in smoke making it difficult to see anything.

Gadget adjusted her binoculars and saw a blur emerging around a nearby bluff. As the blur passed through the smoke, she saw that Chip had nuzzled his face against Dale's as the two were walking side by side with their arms over each other's shoulders.

Gadget shouted excitedly. "There they are!" The Rangers all ran across the beach towards each other.

Chip lifted Gadget up in his arms and swooped in for a kiss when he set her down. He embraced her tightly. "Oh, Gadget!" he said as tears formed in his eyes. "I thought I'd never see you again!" Gadget tried to respond but was so overcome with joy that all she could do was hold onto Chip and cry.

One by one, the Rangers all embraced each other. They swapped tales of their missions and congratulated each other on a job well done. They were still wanted fugitives and they had lost their home, but that didn't matter. All that mattered to them was that they were all together again.

Chip wiped away the tears from his eyes as he addressed the group in front of him. "I don't know what to say to everyone…" he began, but he was at a loss for words. "Thank you."

"It was nothing, mate," Monty responded. "Besides, you'd have done the same for us."

"We're Rescue Rangers," Gadget added. "We'll always be there for each other!"

"I have something for you, Chip," Dale said as he opened up his pack and handed Chip his leather jacket and hat.

"Thanks, Dale," Chip responded affectionately.

"So what do we do now?" Gadget asked.

Chip donned his jacket, put on his hat and adjusted the brim down over his head. "There's only one thing left to say!" he said. He opened his mouth to continue but stopped abruptly and smiled. He took a step backwards, removed his hat, and bowed deeply to Dale.

"Go ahead. You've earned it."

Dale looked at Chip and the rest of his family who were all beaming at him. He stepped forward, took a deep breath, and pointed toward the sky as he started to run.

"RESCUE RANGERS AWAY!"

_End of Part 1_


End file.
